


Crayola Box

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Warning: Disturbing Mental Images, character: mirage, character: wheeljack, genre: general, rating: R - Freeform, verse: g1, warning: gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:43:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Mirage is having a personal problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crayola Box

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Mention of off scene animal demise of the road kill sort.  
>  **Notes:** Camfield hostessed a ‘Prompt Orgy’ where we gave one another a prompt, then had 15 minutes to fill it. It was fun. I’d never done one before. This is from the second round, and I believe Camfield was my prompter (Correct me if I’m wrong): Prompt: “Bitch please. I look fabulous in _everything_.”  
>  Char/Pairing: Mirage/Wheeljack

**Title:** Crayola Box  
 **‘Verse:** G1  
 **Series:** None  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Characters:** Mirage, Wheeljack  
 **Summary:** Mirage is having a personal problem.  
 **Warnings:** Mention of off scene animal demise of the road kill sort.  
 **Notes:** Camfield hostessed a ‘Prompt Orgy’ where we gave one another a prompt, then had 15 minutes to fill it. It was fun. I’d never done one before. This is from the second round, and I believe Camfield was my prompter (Correct me if I’m wrong): Prompt: “Bitch please. I look fabulous in _everything_.”  
Char/Pairing: Mirage/Wheeljack

 

**Crayola Box**

 

Mirage strode with an even, but purposeful pace through the corridors, but mechs' helms whipped around for double and triple takes. Every few moments his plating would change color. Gone was the rich blue and pearlescent white he was known for. Now he was as orange as the _Ark's_ walls. Now he was bright green. He turned the corner and became cream and pale lavender.

"Holy- Mirage?!" Ratchet asked, but the once-noble mech continued on his way without even an optic flicker of acknowledgement.

Mirage's plating cycled through the spectrum, and where invisibility could have saved him the attention he most certainly did not want, he had other things on his mind. Foremost was the grime and filth clogging his vents, oozing into his internals, and making him force decorum so he wouldn’t run screaming for the washracks like some glitched-out loose screw. The small organic he'd not managed to swerve away from fast enough both disgusted and saddened him. Mirage had never learned glee in combat after all, and the death of the tiny beast was truly something he mourned. _Particularly_ as he was the -however accidental- cause of that death.

He was cherry red and a rather sickly shade of green by the time he entered the washracks. Optics locked on him, swept down his frame and back up, the faces shading to a variety of expressions, but Mirage ignored them. Water. Hot, volcano-heated, _pressurized_ water was all he wanted.

He turned on the spray, took the showerhead down, and directed it to the ichor he was trying very hard not to think too closely about. It coated his spoilers, clung in the transformations seams of his legs. Hot water or not, Mirage shuddered, offering a soft prayer for the creature's spark to Primus. -Or... whatever passed for an organic's spark.

Mirage was finally rinsed to his momentary satisfaction, and set the showerhead in its brackets. He heard the ruckus by the door, but was still much more focused on soaping himself down. He took his time, checked and rechecked his seams, then gave himself a final wash just to be sure.

Mirage turned, clean, able to breathe a sigh of relief, and blinked at the frantic figure of Wheeljack standing before him.

"Oh! Raj, I'm so sorry! I didn't know it'd do that to ya! I can fix it. I can! I'll get right on it, but we should go to the lab." Wheeljack reached out for Mirage, but didn't touch him.

Mirage tipped his helm in confusion, then glanced down as his plating. "Oh? The colors?" He scoffed. "Whenever you have time, Wheeljack. Color is hardly an issue when one is as well-built as me."

~ | ~

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


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